


it's a slow dance, but i believe

by ALovelyLitwit



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Fluffy, M/M, a bit of hurt/comfort, a soft scene, could take place in the season three timeline, short and sweet, slow and steady, the boys moving back towards each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALovelyLitwit/pseuds/ALovelyLitwit
Summary: Alex gets a scratch. Michael hates it.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 36
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps I could be persuaded to write a follow-up.

Michael climbs into the backseat of Isobel’s car after Alex. ‘Are you okay?’

Alex rolls his eyes for the hundredth time. ‘It’s just a scratch.’

Isobel smirks as she starts the engine.

They ride quietly for half a mile. The SUV kicking up dust behind them as they skid across the desert sand. Michael keeps darting his eyes over to Alex’s face until he can no longer keep silent. ‘Let me try to heal it.’

Isobel scoffs from the front seat. ‘You’ve never healed anyone, Michael. _I’ve_ never healed anyone.’

‘And it’s just a fucking scratch!’ Alex is fed up. ‘It will be healed all on its own within the week.’

Michael shifts closer to him, bringing his hand up towards Alex’s neck. ‘Well, I don’t like it and it’s still bleeding. So, I’m going to try.’

Alex grabs Michael’s wrist. ‘What if instead of healing me you kill me? Isn’t it effectively the same thing – hand glows red and people live or they die? Flint’s still in the hospital.’

‘Yeah, well, Flint deserves to be in prison. And I’m not going to kill you. I’d never do that.’ He lays his palm flat across the tiny scratch.

Alex leans into the touch. ‘I can’t have a glowing handprint on my cheek. And you know it.’

The truth in his words makes Michael relent. Finally. ‘I hate that you’re hurt. That’s all.’ He drops his hand and goes back to staring out his window, brow deeply furrowed.

Isobel watches them in the rearview mirror. Watches the way Alex softens, reaching across the seat to thread his fingers through Michael’s. Watches the way the tension immediately leaks from both their shoulders. Sees how Michael pulls their joined hands into his lap. Sees that when they both turn back to their respective windows, their hands stay firmly clasped together. She smiles knowingly and drives on.

She drops the boys off at their cars and waves goodbye. Alex moves to head towards his Explorer. Michael follows. ‘Maybe I should come over later? Help you try to translate those images?’

Alex opens his door and shrugs. ‘I don’t plan on needing any help. The computer’s going to do all the work anyway.’

Michael half-turns away. ‘Okay. Sure.’ But he doesn’t move towards his truck, turning back to Alex instead. His mouth opens – Alex watches him consider his words – and then his mouth shuts. He attempts a small smile and starts to walk away.

He’s back at the Chevy when Alex sighs loudly. ‘I wouldn’t mind a pizza. As an apology for this deadly scratch on my jaw. Maybe around 7?’

‘A pizza?’ Michael looks back at him over his shoulder.

‘Yeah. You know how I like it.’ Alex looks at him fondly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Suddenly nervous.

‘Do I get to share this pizza at 7 with you?’ Michael kicks his boots at some invisible rocks.

‘You do.’ Alex slides into his car and shuts the door. ‘But don’t be late. I’m planning on being very hungry.’

Michael smirks at him. ‘I’ll bring two.’

He watches Alex drive away. Looks down at his phone. There are five hours between now and 7 pm. He calls Isobel and asks to use her kitchen. Tonight, Alex Manes is getting homemade pizza and Michael has a thing or two he’d like to say – admit – declare.

But first he needs a game plan.

Because maybe he can’t heal Alex’s face. But there are other hurts – deeper wounds – that need healing even more. Things that he broke and that only he can fix. And that starts tonight. With a homecooked meal and a conversation.

‘Take a shower first, Michael.’ Isobel laughs and ends the call. He pockets his phone and hops into his truck. Ready for whatever comes next.


	2. walk the rainbow to the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael, Alex, and the homemade pizza.

Later that night, Michael pulls into Alex’s driveway. The pizzas are in the seat next to him, staying warm inside their insulated oven sleeves.

On the way to the front door, he smiles and waves at one of the security cameras focused on the patio. Notices a front door light is out. Broken, actually. A mixture of blood-stained glass and feathers scattered about.

He’s bent over picking up the sharp pieces when Alex opens the door. ‘What are you doing?’

‘A bird must have flown into your light. There’s glass everywhere. Be careful where you step.’ Alex is barefoot and leaning on his crutch. Michael collects the jagged glass into a little pile and stands. ‘I’ll come back out and finish cleaning this up. But I want to stick the pizzas in the oven first.’

‘That’s not your mess, Michael. I’ll worry about it later. Come inside.’ He opens the door wider so that Michael and the pizzas can fit through easily.

Alex watches Michael make himself at home in his kitchen. He preheats the oven and starts rifling through the drawers and cabinets looking for plates, a pizza slicer, and utensils. Grabs two clean glasses from the dishwasher. ‘Wow. You know this place better than I do.’

‘That’s because I spent all last weekend reorganizing everything. While you were hunched over that weird military computer. Funny how you haven’t even noticed.’ He smirks at Alex. ‘And I bought you this pizza slicer.’

But Alex only shrugs. ‘I don’t spend much time in here. But I’m happy it works for you now.’

The oven timer dings, and Michael plops the pizzas inside. ‘They just need a few minutes to reheat. I think they turned out okay even with Isobel hovering over my shoulder the whole time.’

‘You made them yourself?’ Alex abandons his crutch and pushes himself up on the kitchen counter. Michael tries not to ogle the way his triceps flex.

‘Uh, yeah. It’s not that hard. Tastes better than takeout – less grease. Unless you like grease, I guess.’ Five minutes in and he’s already anxious and babbling. ‘I’m, ah, I’m just going to go get that glass from outside.’ He disappears before Alex can stop him.

He collects the broken shards and tosses them into Alex’s outside bin. Beyond a new glass panel, the light itself also needs a new bulb. He suspects Alex keeps the lightbulbs in his garage and goes to find one.

Alex finds him rummaging around in some old paint cans several minutes later. ‘The pizza’s ready, Michael. You’re going to have to stop avoiding me now.’

‘Ah ha!’ He stands up, bumping his head on the shelf above him. But he proudly holds up a brand-new bulb for the patio light. ‘Why are these in an empty paint can? And I’m not avoiding you.’

‘Sure, you’re not.’ Alex leans against the door frame, amused. ‘And a paint can is a perfectly useful receptacle. Reduce, reuse, recycle. Kindergarten 101.’ He points his chin back towards the kitchen. ‘Come eat with me.’

Michael follows him back through the hallway. Alex has already fixed their plates and set the table, sitting them right next to each other despite the several other empty chairs. Alex’s computer is set up on the table as well, running the pictures through his translation program.

They take their seats and when their knees rub together under the table neither moves away.

‘My program is unlikely to find an exact match – obviously. But maybe there’s a similar language on Earth or even just a familiar pattern in the symbology.’ He takes a bite of Michael’s pizza. ‘Oh, wow.’ He finishes chewing and swallows. Huffs out a small laugh. ‘Damn, that’s really good. You’re just full of surprises these days.’

Michael feels himself blush. ‘It’s the cheese blend. And the cheese to tomato sauce ratio. So, math.’

Alex laughs. ‘Of course. Pizza calculus.’

‘How’s the wound?’ Michael reaches out to tilt Alex’s jaw up. He runs his thumb across the thin scratch, already half-healed and scabbed over. ‘Guess it’s not so bad after all.’ He wants to press his lips against the cut but fights the impulse. Turns back to his pizza.

‘So, why were you avoiding me earlier?’ Alex has finished his first slice and moved on to a second.

‘I wasn’t. Just wanted to help you out with that light.’ He stares down at his plate.

Alex narrows his eyes at Michael. ‘Okay. You seemed nervous earlier. But I guess I was imagining things.’

Michael sighs. ‘Actually, I was nervous. I _am_ nervous.’ He pushes his plate away and shifts towards Alex, meeting his eyes. ‘I, ah, I would like to fix your light.’

Alex doesn’t say anything. Just stares back at him, confused.

‘I would like to fix your light. Your gutters are disgusting and your front gate hinges squeak. Your couch doesn’t sit level and your washing machine is off balance.’ He takes a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Your bed is too empty. And I would like to fix that. All of that.’

He puts his hand on Alex’s chest. ‘And your heart. The places I helped break. And even the ones I didn’t. I’d like to fix those, too.’

For a long time, no one moves. Michael barely dares to breathe. But then Alex covers Michael’s hand with his own and presses their foreheads together.

‘The garage door opener only works half the time. So, you can add that to your list as well.’ They both laugh, wrapping their arms around each other and fighting back tears. Michael finally kisses the scratch on Alex’s jaw and instantly feels tension bleed from all the tight places in his neck and shoulders. The pizza grows cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Cross-posted to @litwitlady on Tumblr.


End file.
